


The Rain In You

by AmelieofK



Category: iKON (Korea Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:01:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28009638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmelieofK/pseuds/AmelieofK
Summary: It was raining the first time Jinhwan and Junhoe first fell in love. It was rain that brought them back together months after.
Relationships: Goo Junhoe/Kim Jinhwan
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	The Rain In You

Jinhwan woke up to the sound of rain. They pattered over the glass windows in a comforting murmur, demanding his attention. He sat up in his bed, looking out into a silhouetted landscape made foggy and veiled by the cold enveloping the city. He sat up and his hand immediately ran across the empty space beside him on the bed almost naturally. Of course, there was nobody there. No warm flesh for his fingers to run over. No exquisitely carved features for his fingers to appraise. No velvet legs to tangle his with. He was alone. He had been alone for almost two months and he still had not gotten used to it.

The mind was amazing at conjuring up memories he had not needed, but here he was, the clock flashing three in the morning, the rain pouring in torrents and all he could envision was the image of Junhoe, sitting cross legged beside him, shirtless with only his boxers on, the guitar on his lap. Jinhwan could even hear his voice; an unlikely but effervescent mixture of rough stones and molten lava. It burned his heart, added texture to his soul and filled his ears with heaven.Jinhwan wondered if he had gone crazy, to miss the vision of someone who was no longer there; as opposed to missing the actual person himself, but who was he kidding? Their break was too recent and his poor, pitiful heart was still battered, like it or not.

He missed Junhoe with the intensity of this sudden stormy weather bearing down onto the paved streets of Seoul, flooding the drains causing it to overflow and overtake the terminal silence of loneliness.

He stood at the balcony, letting the rain pelt him with unforgiving tenacity. The way the droplets greedily engulf him, trickling from the top of his head, accumulating steadily wetting his hair, before trilling down his face, dribbling down his chin; soaking him within minutes. The sky was weeping and so was the heart that was never his. His memory flitted back to a time when he had done the same thing once, months ago when their love was still a budding flower with leaves still new, blooming with promise. 

“ _Ya_ -do you want to catch a fever? Come here!” He heard Junhoe calling him from behind the leaf of the open door, Junhoe’s hand held out to him, because no one in their right mind would play outside in such a weather. It was pure invitation to falling sick.

Of course, he had known Jinhwan well enough by then to be aware that Jinhwan and this weather meant a man in his element. Jinhwan had held out his own hand, but instead of allowing Junhoe to lead him in, he pulled Junhoe into the rain. Junhoe had yelled in surprise, screaming a little as the cold hit him, struggling to go back to where he had been forced to emerge from. Jinhwan had held him in a tight embrace, as tight as his own little body could hold, laughing in satisfaction as they both got drenched together in the rain.

Laughter. Loud, clear and ringing; their combined laughter as they sprawled collectively onto the deck of the balcony, rolling in each other’s arms, laughing in the rain, because that was a time of penultimate happiness for Jinhwan. Jinhwan, who had led a troubled life had finally felt belonged and loved in someone’s arms. When Junhoe was with him, he felt alive, he could breathe through the suffocating fog of the self deprecation he had wrapped himself in, he had managed to stop hating his continued existence and had even begun to believe who he was, who he had potential to be.

What was the point of sleep? Jinhwan thought, as he remained rooted to the spot, letting the rain’s cold embrace overrun that little bit of memory he had held so possessively in his heart, which had once been a strong and burning flame when Junhoe had been by his side.

It rained when they first met, Jinhwan had been standing outside the gallery, about ready to go home. He was waiting for the showers to subside when an umbrella flew past him, almost slapping him on the face had he not taken a step back. Fastidious footsteps followed the wake of the identified flying object. Someone was rushing after that errant umbrella. Its owner had turned around the corner, a vision of loveliness himself. The white jersey shirt had fastened itself to a lengthy body which brushed past Jinhwan quite suddenly, almost knocking his petite frame out of the way and into the glass door of the gallery. Jinhwan would have huffed in anger had he not caught a glimpse of the shirt delineating itself against the honeycomb of abs and lengthy legs encased in dark denimswhooshing past by him. As if that was not enough, his vision was quickly assailed by the curvature of a muscular back as this stranger bend over hurriedly to pick up his umbrella on the grass knoll beside the gallery, where it had anchored itself; its handle hooked onto one of the garden chairs that had been spattered with rain.

He was suddenly standing beside Jinhwan. His profile, probably chiselled from marble, had been crafted to perfection; a majestic forehead, a masculine nose and lips that looked as if they had been shaped like petals. Jinhwan knew it was raining and if anyone told him then that rain could conjure up a mirage, he would have absolutely believed it.

“I’m sorry.” The stranger enthused profusely, bowing slightly, as he struggled with the mess of a contraption. Jinhwan stared and then bowed, blushing profusely when he realised belatedly the apology had been aimed at him. 

“Ah-it’s nothing. I’m sorry I didn’t catch it in time.” Jinhwan spoke without thinking, giggling a little, because it was funny the way he ran after the umbrella and finally those eyes had travelled down to take a curious look at him. Jinhwan froze, resigned to the fate that he might be cursed to stand there forever when that gaze found his translucent brown eyes.

“Sir, I applaud you for that valiant thought but alas, I think it is beyond saving.” He chuckled good-naturedly and Jinhwan wondered how anyone human could possibly look and sound like this, without the herald of angels singing at his feet. “Thank you, though for the thought, though, as admirable as it was.” He added and Jinhwan nodded, not even sure if anything he had to say would be appropriate in the face of such blinding beauty. The silence which settled between them suddenly turned dry and awkward for some reason. Jinhwan blamed his lack of confidence for it. “Crazy weather, huh?” The stranger continued and though it was probably such a weak attempt at even starting a conversation, Jinhwan had to applaud his bravado.

“Yeah, but it’s kind comforting as well, isn’t it? Like it reminds you to slow down and take a look at the world from a different perspective.” Jinhwan had no idea where that bit of sharing came from but there it was. He could feel he stranger’s gaze lingering on his face and he knew where those eyes were anchored on exactly. Always, the heart-shaped mole on his cheek that people were always exclaiming made him look ‘cute’.

“Now that you’ve mentioned it.” The lengthy stranger was sighing. “Koo Junhoe.” He introduced himself quite suddenly, taking Jinhwan aback with genuine surprise. Jinhwan had gazed at the hand being held out in his direction with such awe that it took him awhile to realise he had just been staring and saying nothing in return.

“Kim…Jinhwan.” He finally sputtered, gazing at the disparity of his own hand, so tiny and immediately disappearing into Junhoe’s big one. Appearances are definitely deceiving. Junhoe’s hand, though somewhat monstrously large in size, was gentle and smooth to the touch, the grip not particularly firm and almost tender. Jinhwan felt as if he was touching some precious artwork or holy artefact.

“Do you like this weather?” He asked amicably, as if they had been friends for years, instead of strangers just less than a minute ago.

“I’m kind of a pluviophile myself.” Jinhwan admitted. “All that grey of general dreariness and the sodden scent of damp soil is somewhat invigorating, isn’t it?” Jinhwan asked and if he had been coquettish about it then, so what?

“It is!” Junhoe had exclaimed with the sudden outburst of laughter this time. The sound was robust and clear. Jinhwan was pretty sure it was the kind of sound one can get addicted listening to if one kept hearing it more often, over time.

That brief meeting of sharing shelter from the rain quickly turned into a _tteokbokki_ date at a tiny little restaurant near the gallery. They had talked so much, they barely even realised that the rain had stopped and the skies had gradually turned bright again.

They had exchanged numbers and Jinhwan had spent at least two days in terminal agony before rousing his pathetic self to send Junhoe a message.

It was answered almost immediately.

‘Hi.’

‘Hey, I was wondering when you’d text me.’ You were? Jinhwan thought, smiling to himself trying to imagine Junhoe’s reaction as he was reading the message. He let his body fall into his bed and began kicking the air in excitement.

‘Sorry I was busy’ He texted back, playing it cool.

‘Ah-another new sculpture in the works?’ Junhoe asked. Jinhwan had told Junhoe that working for the gallery was a temporary occupation. His primary focus was to become a master sculptor.

‘Nah, just the one I’m currently working on’ Jinhwan responded. And should he tell Junhoe that it had been inspired by the abs Jinhwan had seen delineated against Junhoe’s shirt that rainy day they met?

‘Then I won’t disturb you’ Junhoe replied back. ‘I was wondering if we could have another date soon’ Jinhwan fumbled with his phone as he scanned through the message. Another date? He sat back up, forgetting the phone in his hand, eyes shut tightly in disbelief. _Dear God, tell me this is not a dream_ , he prayed fervently in his heart and then opened his eyes slowly. It was not at all. Junhoe had really asked for another date and now Jinhwan’s heart was scattered into a flurry of pure bliss flying on butterflies’ wings.

‘That would be great. Tomorrow sound good?’ Jinhwan answered right back and then gasped, wondering if he had been too forthcoming. He groaned at his own uncertainty, rolling back into bed, burying his face into the pillow, trying to keep the flushing on his cheeks down.

The bright flash of lightning followed by the crash of thunder broke into his reverie.

Jinhwan opened his eyes and realised that he was still on the balcony, soaked to the bone and shivering profusely, still alone and still devoid of Junhoe in the flesh.

He must have dragged himself back to bed. He woke up shivering with fever, the sheets still damp and smelling rather musty from the rain last night. His hand found the button of the answering machine. Four messages. None of them from Junhoe. Just Hanbin asking him if he was alright, if he was even eating and that he needed to get out of his funk before his heart was beset with worries. 

Six months with Junhoe and two months without. This was more than a funk. Jinhwan lost all will to live.

The skies were clear. He managed to garner enough energy to get up and take a warm shower although he suspected the rain had seeped into his bone and filled his every being so that despite today’s fine weather, there was a thunderstorm happening on the inside. He poured cereal into a mug and added cold milk, scooping spoonfuls balefully into his mouth as he stood outside the balcony, looking up at the skies.

There was no sun so he predicted there would be rain later on and maybe, just maybe more misery.

It had rained on their second date too. That was the reason why they had ended up at Jinhwan’s place this time with _ramyun_ and _soju_. Junhoe in sky blue sweater and eggshell white casual pants looking like he stepped out from the pages of those varsity themed mangas Jinhwan used to devour as a teenager. Jinhwan watched silently as Junhoe moved about in his kitchen, preparing a proper meal using the stuff they got from a convenience store. It was strangely unnerving yet somewhat befitting to have Junhoe behind the counter, with his sleeves rolled up to his elbow like an ethereal being using the pots and pans Jinhwan had bought but barely touched since he moved in a year ago.

“I could use a little help here.” Junhoe quipped, munching on a piece of sausage he had cut up to put into the boiling pot.

“Hmm?” Jinhwan muttered, the spell broken when he realised Junhoe was talking to him.

“Jinhwan- _sshi_ , when you’re done staring, it would be great if you could help me set the table.” Junhoe intoned although the indulgent smile he was flashing made Jinhwan feel as if his heart was about to burst on the spot. Jinhwan had nodded and went about setting the table. A first for him considering that all his meals were taken either at the gallery or the home studio, most days. He suddenly felt conscious about his clothes. He had just put on one of his newer shirts and pants that he had no time to iron. He had inherited his mother’s curly hair and there was not much to be done about it, but he suddenly felt conscious about his looks. “Careful.” Junhoe interred as he walked out of the kitchen. “Hot stuff.” He added mischievously as he placed the steaming pot he had been holding by the handles onto the table.

“Thank you for the meal.” Jinhwan had shyly stated as Junhoe poured _soju_ into the cups Jinhwan had set beside the bowls.

“No, thank you for having me at your place. It’s very…minimalist, isn’t it?” Junhoe commented pointedly and Jinhwan blushed. How was he supposed to explain that he did not even own the place? That he was living by the good graces of a good friend who happened to be rich and wanted to help him attain his dreams. “But, it’s cosy. Do you like being by yourself?” Junhoe had asked as he stirred the still piping hot noodles in his bowl.

“I’m used to it, I guess.” Jinhwan admitted.

“We should have the next date at my place.” Junhoe said quite suddenly. He must have realised how that had sounded coming out like that. He gazed at Jinhwan, blushing slightly, “I mean, only if you want to, of course.” He had added.

“It would be an honour.” Jinhwan had quickly responded, realising that he was blushing just as much as Junhoe. Junhoe had stood up, grabbing a piece of tissue, suddenly bending over to where Jinhwan had been sitting. His face was so close to Jinhwan’s cheek that Jinhwan could feel the warmth of his breath on it. Jinhwan dared not turn to look at Junhoe. He was not sure what was happening, but he was certain that he would not be able to handle gazing into Junhoe’s eyes this close. “ _Wae_?” Jinhwan asked with bated breath.

“You have a gravy stain by your lips.” Junhoe whispered, using the tissue he had taken, to wipe Jinhwan’s lips gently. “There.” Junhoe’s breath was warm against his reddened cheek.

Unable to resist, Jinhwan turned his face slightly in Junhoe’s direction, very much aware that this was what Junhoe wanted him to do. He had wanted it too.

By all accounts, it was an amazing kiss. It was like jumping off a building without a wire or jumping into deep water without knowing how to swim. It was both dangerous, exciting and unexpected.

And Junhoe.

Junhoe was there to catch him with open arms.

That second date was the beginning of everything good in his life. Junhoe had stared at the surgical scar on his chest for the longest time as they sat on the bed after Junhoe had pulled the sweater off from Jinhwan’s petite frame. It was the only thing which marred the smoothness of his fair body. That long, pinkish mark from a past he never ceased to forget.

“You are beautiful.” Junhoe had whispered, pulling him down to the bed, lips running along the scar gently. Jinhwan moaned softly, gripping Junhoe’s shoulders with the realisation that his heart, which had never been his to begin with, even before, had now belonged to Junhoe, whether or not he liked it. Jinhwan was only thankful that he never asked about it after, so Jinhwan would never have to explain what he could possibly not.

This kiss was the first of many kisses to come. Kisses which burned and spilled into the kind of lovemaking that was magical. Junhoe worked as an attorney and even though his hours were sometimes odd, he would make it a point to pick Jinhwan up when the gallery was about to close and walk back home with him, asking him about his day.

Sometimes, if he was free, Jinhwan would ask him to stay for dinner and Junhoe would inevitably end up staying the night.

It was during the same rainy season, probably a month after they decided that they simply could not live without seeing each other that Junhoe woke up to an empty bed. He kicked the covers, searching for his boxers and after putting them on, padded outside the room, sighting the studio door ajar and the lights behind it, glowing a calming blue. Junhoe walked in, not surprised to see Jinhwan in his drawstring pants sitting on the stool. His back was to Junhoe and as he walked further in, Junhoe could see Jinhwan working on an unfinished work, hands caked to the wrists with clay, fingers kneading and forming curves to the rectangular slab of mud on his worktable.

“There you are.” Junhoe called out, hugging him from behind, arms around that tiny waist, fingers rubbing that pale abdomen slightly tickling around Jinhwan’s ribs.

“Don’t…” Jinhwan giggled. “My hands are dirty.” He added, squirming under Junhoe’s warm, teasing caresses. Jinhwan stood up, keeping his hands firmly on the damp clay before him and moved to the side so that Junhoe could align his lithe, muscular body along his small back.

“It’s cold outside.” Junhoe had buried his head into Jinhwan’s small but familiar shoulder, inhaling the fresh, clean scent of Jinhwan’s fair skin before running his tongue along the graceful neck. Jinhwan squirmed again, giggling this time.

“Stop…” He trilled, but not moving away or pushing Junhoe at all. He was loving the velvet feel of Junhoe’s chest rubbing against his small back. “That tickles.” Jinhwan added, craning his neck to one side instinctively.

“I can’t stop.” Junhoe whispered. “You’re way too fine.” He added. One of his hands had travelled down, snaking around the front of Jinhwan’s waist, fingers slipping through the waistband gently caressing the bulge that had appeared between Jinhwan’s legs. Jinhwan inhaled sharply, his fingers making grooves along the clay that was obviously involuntary. He bit his lips saucily, turning quite suddenly. He ran one clay-caked hand across the washboard abs. “That’s cold.” Junhoe shivered, backing away just a little, the errant hand still curved around the small of Jinhwan’s back.

“I told you to stop.” Jinhwan laughed lightly in banter.

“I told you.” Junhoe hunkered, whispering, hoisting Jinhwan up so the smaller man had no choice, but to wrap his legs around Junhoe’s waist tightly. “I can’t.” He added, dangerously. Clay was now caked on Junhoe’s pecs where Jinhwan had rested his hands tightly while he was anchoring himself steadily around his lover. Jinhwan ran one damp finger against Junhoe’s cheek with a line of clay.

“Have I told you that I love you?” Jinhwan mused, gazing up at Junhoe with tenderness, straight into those eyes, which were always shining upon him with nothing, but lucidity and an untold depth of emotions.

“Not yet, but I hope you know that even if you don’t, I love you.” Junhoe had husked as he carried Jinhwan back into the room, settling on the bed, still bearing Jinhwan around his waist effortlessly.

“I love you, too.” Jinhwan had whispered back insistently, as Junhoe fell back and they made love amidst sheets that would later be smeared with passion and damp clay. There was no saving the bedsheets, but the fire they had for each other remained stoked with intent.

The rain had begun to pour in torrents once more when Jinhwan finally returned Hanbin’s call. He sounded morose and regretful, but Jinhwan insisted he was fine and that no one was to blame for Junhoe storming out of his apartment two months ago. Jinhwan’s friendship with Hanbin had been the harbinger of Junhoe’s irrational jealousy. The fact that Jinhwan had refused to move out and live with him made things even worse, especially when he found out that both the gallery and the apartment had belonged to Hanbin.

“He’s just a close friend, Junhoe. It’s not like you’ve never met him before. He’s been my friend since my university days, been there for me through thick and thin. I can’t just severe ties like that.” Jinhwan had explained patiently for the nth time, since he had finally introduced Hanbin to Junhoe maybe slightly more than a month after they were together. Junhoe had been silenced by this explanation, but apparently his silence had only meant his continued unhappiness. Something Jinhwan had no balm for.

Jinhwan sat up quite suddenly, jolted awake by the roar of thunder. The night had returned and with it, came the showers just like the tears he had shed when Junhoe ended the magic so abruptly.

He sat up and could discern a shadow by the entrance of the bedroom. Tall, silent and absolutely familiar.

“Junhoe…” Jinhwan choked up just by the sound of his name filtering from his own mouth.

“It’s raining outside.” Junhoe walked in and Jinhwan could see that he was shivering, drenched from the rain outside. Jinhwan turned out from the covers as quick as his feet could and folded his arms around Junhoe in tight embrace. “I’m sorry.” Junhoe muttered, burying his face deep into Jinhwan’s shoulder, taking comfort in the presence of the only man he would ever deign to love and whom he had foolishly walked out from only two months ago.

“Sssh…” Jinhwan urged, his arms could not even meet around the girth of this huge, towering form but as small as they were, it was enough for Junhoe and that was what mattered. Jinhwan closed his eyes, letting the rain on Junhoe dampen him as well, inhaling the overwhelming scent of earth mingled with the effervescent tears of the skies’. “I’m here. You’re safe.” Jinhwan stated.

“I spoke to Hanbin today.” Junhoe said as Jinhwan led him out to the living room, putting on the pot of milk on the stove so he could fix them something warm and comforting. The rain outside pattered against the glass in little, barely-there taps which Jinhwan suddenly found overbearing and burdened with the weight of the past.

“He told you everything?” Jinhwan asked with dread. Junhoe nodded. The hot chocolate was made and placed on the table, but the both of them only sat in each other’s arms, drawing warmth from each other’s embrace. They would have it no other way. “I had not expected to fall for anyone before I met you. Not even Hanbin, even though he held hope that I would.” 

“I’m here. I’ll always listen. I should have and I know now why you would not tell me the truth. It must have been…painful.” Junhoe whispered into Jinhwan’s hair, his voice tinged with bitter regret.

“It is painful every day.” Jinhwan admitted as tears glistened in his eyes. “Every day I wake up knowing that I am alive because of this heart is utterly painful. Especially in the knowledge that this heart beating in my chest had once belonged to my best friend.” He added, crying into Junhoe’s chest. Junhoe held Jinhwan tightly in understanding, feeling his pain, feeling sorry for walking out without being more sensitive to Jinhwan’s reasons for wanting to keep this from him.

“He needs you.” Hanbin had said, showing up quite suddenly in Junhoe’s office without warning just hours ago. Junhoe had always found him terminally sad since the first time they met. His droopy eyes were always on Jinhwan’s face, the solemn smile he flashed when Jinhwan’s face would light up the moment his lover started talking, Junhoe found it all a little too disturbing and weird that Jinhwan had not found it to be strange.

“And you would know this because?” Junhoe had interred coldly. He was up to his neck in cases and feeling miserable since he decided to leave Jinhwan. With the weather so dreary and all, the rain only reminded him of his first meeting with Jinhwan.

“Because I’ve known him long enough to be aware that he’s truly happy when you were with him.” Hanbin had countered, throwing a piece of paper across the table towards Junhoe. It was a photo. Probably taken a long time ago. Jinhwan was in the picture; young, fresh and smiling. He had his arms around another man Junhoe did not recognise, but he was taller than Jinhwan, with black hair and a winsome face. They were both wearing matching pennant jackets of their alma mater. “Yunhyeong and Jinhwan attended university with me. I took this picture in the fall of two thousand nine right after our graduation. I had just proposed to Yunhyeong.” Hanbin explained. Junhoe gazed at the photo. Jinhwan probably at the cusp of his adult years, he looked as if he was ready to take on the world. “They were childhood best friends. They grew up together and Yunhyeong had prior knowledge about Jinhwan’s medical history.”

“Medical history?” Junhoe perked at this piece of information. He picked up the photo, gazing intently at Jinhwan, trying to discern if he was suffering from any malady. Yet the face was full of cheer and happiness, Junhoe’s finger caressed the mole on that smooth cheek on the photo with affection, missing the velvet feel of the real thing beneath his touch.

“It was a congenital heart. Jinhwan had it since he was born. He fell sick easily, had gone through many surgeries and was on constant medication. Doctors said he would not live past ten. He was twenty when we took that picture. He never had it easy.” Hanbin explained. “Yunhyeong was always there for him, every step of the way, especially when Jinhwan lost his parents in a car accident. Those two were thick as thieves back then. You would never find one without the other. Even when I got with Yunhyeong, I had to have Jinhwan’s approval.” Hanbin laughed. It was a sound that he seemed to have a hard time emitting. Hanbin’s gaze found the window in Junhoe’s office and Junhoe knew his mind had wandered far into a past that had once been filled with happiness.“That day we graduated and I proposed to Yunhyeong, he said no.” Hanbin recalled bitterly.

It was a tumour. Yunhyeong had been suffering spells of migraine for months and Jinhwan had nagged for him to seek medical aid, but he had always pinned it onto the thesis and assignments they had been plagued with that last year in campus, only taking painkillers to keep the pain at bay. The week before graduation, Yunhyeong had underwent a CT scan and days later, he got the results and he explained to Hanbin patiently that day why a wedding would throw a spanner in the works.

By the time the photo was taken, Yunhyeong had made preparations. He had written his will, got the lawyers to ensure all his possessions were taken care of and most importantly, he had ensured that Jinhwan would get his heart. Hanbin told Junhoe how Jinhwan had refused adamantly the moment he found out, days after the funeral. He wanted no part in it. He would rather die, meet Yunhyeong and slap his face for even thinking it, Hanbin recounted with another bitter smile. Junhoe wiped the tears that had begun trickling steadily down his eyes. The photo had begun to shake in his trembling hand as he realised the full, burdened weight of both Hanbin’s and Jinhwan’s tragedy.

A week after Yunhyeong’s passing, Jinhwan had undergone the surgery. According to the doctors, it had taken twelve hours for the procedure to be completed and twice, Jinhwan had almost gone under.

“I want you to be happy with Jinhwan. I want both of you to have what Yunhyeong and I had, as shortlived as it was. That happiness of being with the one person meant for you.” Hanbin professed as he stood up to leave Junhoe’s office. “I held on for too long the shadow of the happiness that had once been there, hoping for it to thrive that it made Jinhwan felt obligated to remain unchanged. It was wrong of me to have those expectations. I am sorry to him and to you.” He added when Junhoe stopped him at the door. “I’m leaving for Europe this week. Maybe the distance would be better for me. The house, the gallery was Yunhyeong’s. Never mine, but he had left them to Jinhwan, because that had been their plans from the beginning; for Yunhyeong to run the gallery that would exhibit all of Jinhwan’s works.” He explained. “Everything is in your hands now that you have the truth.” Hanbin added, nodding as he held Junhoe by the shoulder firmly before leaving.

Junhoe only remember running in the rain, after. He sped past the gallery, past the streets he had once crossed holding Jinhwan in his arm or by the hand; his tears melding with the rain, remorse and the dawn of complete understanding. 

“I used to hate the rain, you know. I used to hate the cold and all the dampness. It was Yunhyeong who loved the rain. Yunhyeong said that rain forced people to change their plans and reminded them that fate had better ones planned for them.” Jinhwan was saying now and Junhoe nodded silently, as he was reminded of the first time they met at the shelter of the gallery. “He was right.” Jinhwan whispered as they both remained locked in warm embrace, gazing out at the downpour still going on outside the window, fogging the glass up with impending cold.

**~ END ~**


End file.
